


In Need of Color

by lasairfhiona



Series: comment fic 2017 [3]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 05:09:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10734771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasairfhiona/pseuds/lasairfhiona
Summary: evil_little_dog promptedStar Trek TOS: Leonard McCoy+Any, Grey hull walls are nothing like the lush green of the South





	In Need of Color

Everywhere he looked it was grey, or white, but mostly grey. It was dull, and depressing and he was tired of looking at grey walls. It made him grumpier than he normally was and he'd had everyone he was close to had said something to him about his attitude. 

Jim had tried to get him drunk to cheer him up the only problem with that was his tolerance to alcohol was much higher than Jim due to his years of being a functioning alcoholic. Spock had tried logic but he wasn't buying what the the green blooded hobgoblin had to say. To even Uhura could cheer him up. Checkov didn't even try, neither did Sulu. 

Sitting with a glass of Andorian Brandy he sipped it looking out at the stars as they passed anything was better than the grey walls. 

A com signal chirped. He was tempted to ignore it, but he was expecting a call from Chris so he reached over and tapped the com. “What?” He answered.

“Call from Admiral Pike for you.”

“Thank you. Put it though.” He moved to look at the screen. Seeing his lover’s face made him feel a little better.

“Chris.”

“Len. I hear you've been a right bastard lately.”

McCoy sighed. “Jim call you?”

“No Spock did. He was concerned.”

“Dammit,” he cursed. Spock was the last person he excepted to go to Chris about his current mood.

“Talk to me Len. What’s wrong?”

“All these damn, grey walls is what's wrong. I'm tired of being cooped up on this ship.”

“You’ll soon be back on Earth.”

He knew Chris was trying to placate him, but in his current mood. He wasn't buying it. “Three weeks is a little longer than soon.”

“Len…”

“Sorry Chris. I'm just in a mood. I miss Earth. I miss the lush green of the south in the spring. I'm talking leaving and going home as soon as we get there.”

“Will this help until you get back?”

Len looked sat forward as a video of his home town played, the tulips and daffodils in full bloom, along with the fruit trees. He took a deep breath, as if he could catch the scent of the green grass and flowers. “A little,” he admitted when the video ended and Chris’s face returned, “but in some ways it only makes me miss it more.”

“I know love. But at least it's just a few weeks instead of a few months.”

Len sighed and nodded as Chris closed the connection with his customary farewell. He set the video to play on a loop so he could continue to see the lush green of the town where he grew up. He could imagine running around the fresh mowed yard, leaping over the short picket fences and racing down the wide sidewalks. It was better then the grey and white walls of the ship. Talking the last sip of the Brandy, he closed his eyes and remembered.


End file.
